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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28147383">Left in the Ruins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganaGreenleaf/pseuds/MorganaGreenleaf'>MorganaGreenleaf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Whump, teensy bit of tenrose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:34:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28147383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganaGreenleaf/pseuds/MorganaGreenleaf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thousands of years ago, the Doctor was captured and tortured. Now his captors are dead and gone, and Rose Tyler has finally managed to track him down.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Left in the Ruins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>there's not really any vivid descriptions of whump but look after yourselves so if that might be a problem for you please don't read it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The ruins were silent as Rose Tyler carefully picked her way through the debris on the ground, stepping over massive chunks of wall and ceiling. A gentle wind blew a cluster of autumn leaves across the room, vines gently swishing against the walls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It has taken her years of searching to get where she was now. Years of travelling in the TARDIS, trying to search without any clue how to, guided mostly by the TARDIS’s pre-existing protocols. And in the end, it had brought her here. By the looks of it, hundreds of years too late, and she couldn’t work out how to go back. This was her best chance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose entered what had once been a huge hall, with a huge dais at one end. A chair sat rotting away at the top, one leg missing. Rose neared the dais, and noticed a small door leading off it. Seems promising, she thought. Hope she had not felt for a very, very long time rekindled in her, and she ran for the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sprinted for the door, but her foot caught on something on the floor, and she fell, hard, ripping her jeans. Rose pressed a hanky up against her knee, trying to stop the blood, and glanced around for the perpetrator. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were several metal hoops set in the floor. Rose shuddered. She dreaded to think what they had been used for. Groaning slightly, she eased herself to her feet and made her way out of the throne room, and into a dark passageway. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no light in the passageway. Rose came up to an iron door, with a small window grate in the top. She pulled at the handle but alas, it was locked. Rose dug around in her pocket, and pulled out a sonic screwdriver. She’d found it discarded in one of the many workshops in the TARDIS. She suspected it was a much earlier version of the sonic her Doctor used. It only had a couple of settings, but it had been invaluable to her, getting her out of many sticky situations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She held it against the lock, and with a quiet, satisfying </span>
  <em>
    <span>click</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it unlocked. Rose shoved it open and ran down the corridor. The outside light soon faded away and she was left in pitch darkness, so she kept her hand against the wall, walking along, checking every room she passed by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first room was a cell block, with about two dozen group cells in it. A lamp sat abandoned on a guards’ desk, which Rose was quick to steal, that illuminated the hallway in an eerie bluish light. The second room was much the same, as was the third, and the fourth, and the fifth, sixth and seventh rooms. At this point the corridor forked, and Rose turned left. There were two rooms down there, the eighth, which lead to a small cell, and the ninth, which lead to several interrogation rooms, and then more single cells. Feeling slightly ill, Rose turned around and took the right fork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were three more doors for her to get through, until she finally reached the tenth room. That room had a large metal table in the centre, with a ridiculous amount of restraints attached. There was a small drain in one corner, with something that looked horribly like blood staining the floor around it. Rose held the lamp higher, and gasped. Her legs feeling suddenly weak, she grabbed at the table to steady herself. Her hand slipped, the table still slick with blood, and for the second time that day, she fell to the floor, just as her stomach decided to empty itself onto the floor. Her vision swam, and she slumped over, unconscious.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose blinked awake, and, grabbing the lamp, ran straight from the room. She slammed the door behind her, and leaned against it, panting. She rubbed the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to erase the image. It wasn’t just blood. There were torture device stacked in shelves and boxes against one wall, machines against the opposite, and hooks in the ceiling to hang someone from...and worst of all, there were pieces of hair that looked horribly familiar, and chunks of flesh, some of them charred to match the burn marks on the floor, and now she was getting a feeling she might be too late.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Picking up the lamp, she stumbled down the passage, checking rooms once again. A guardhouse. An office. A room with a chair covered in chains in the centre. An infirmary. And finally, right at the end, another cell. Unlike all the others, this one was locked. As Rose sonicked it open, she thought she saw a body inside, chained up so much she wouldn’t have been surprised if they suffocated. She rushed over, and grabbed the body, checking for a pulse. There was none.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose carefully wiped the thin layer of dust off the body, and looked at the face of the prisoner, hoping she was wrong. They had pieces of their flesh and skin missing, burn marks all over, part of an ear hacked off. Tears sprang to her eyes but she wiped them away - they wouldn’t help now. Crying could come later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the body was much the same. Bruising, burns, cuts, bones sticking out of places they shouldn’t, large pieces missing. No fingernails or toenails. Mangled feet and shattered legs. Three fingers missing their last joint.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no!” Rose whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The body stiffened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose let out a short breath. There was only one person who could survive all this. “Doctor? Is it you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A barely audible “Y-ye,” came from the body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose sucked in a deep breath. She was going to kill the people who did this. Very slowly. Very painfully. And she was going to enjoy the hell out of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A tiny grunt came from the Doctor. Rose abandoned her murderous fantasies and decided that getting him out and better was much more important. So she pulled the sonic screwdriver out again and carefully held it against the chains on his wrist. Nothing happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor opened one battered eye and followed her movements. “What you doing?” he grunted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m rescuing you, Doctor, what else would I be doing?” Rose said, gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought she heard him snort. “’Nother trick. You’re not Rose. Won’t work on me again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What? “It’s me, Doctor. It’s Rose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Prove it,” he groaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose leaned forwards and whispered in his ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know m-? Rose? They haven’t got you too, have they? NO! Let her go!” he tried to yell at his long-gone captors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve come to get you out. And they’re all dead and gone. So help me. How do I get these off you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t with that screwdriver. Too basic. Sonic the wall, get me back to the TARDIS, and she’ll get us a new one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose did as he said, and the chains disconnected from the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor tried to stand, but immediately collapsed again, biting his lip to stop the scream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose wordlessly came over and slid her arms under him, trying to avoid the worst bits. “I’m so sorry I took so long,” she apologised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault. It’s mine, for getting captured,” he said, glaring at her, his lip bleeding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose picked him up, and, carrying him bridal style, the lamp hanging from one hand, began making her way back to the TARDIS.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She noticed as they passed through the halls he grew stiffer and stiffer, his eyes squeezing shut. As they made their way through the torture chamber that was the tenth room, Rose’s eyes fixed on the door, determinedly ignoring the rest of the room, like a horse with blinkers, she heard the Doctor’s chains clank as he shook in her arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s no other way. I’m sorry. But you’re getting out now. You’re free. We’re almost to the TARDIS.” She kept up a string of what she hoped were comforting murmurs as she retraced her steps through the passageways and through the ruined castle above. Although she had to put him down a couple of times, Rose ignored the strain in her arms because she knew he had gone through a thousand times worse pain for years. And it was all her fault. If she’d just been quicker, got here years earlier, she could have saved him before it all began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>blame yourself,” he whispered, staring into her eyes. “Blame them. They did it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose didn’t answer. In her opinion, she could share the blame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They made it to the TARDIS and Rose felt the Doctor relax immediately. She laid him on a bed in the infirmary, then rushed over to the TARDIS console.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Press the red button,” the Doctor ordered, “and then put that screwdriver in the little slot that comes up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose did that, and in less than a minute, the TARDIS presented her with a brand-new, up-to-date screwdriver. She hurried back over and pressed the screwdriver against his chains. The Doctor sighed in relief as they fell away, leaving chafed, bleeding skin behind. Rose was quick to dump them in the nearest rubbish bin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How can I help you heal all of that?” Rose asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pop me in a healing pod and set it to the second-highest setting. And then go and get some rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you’ll be okay?” Rose asked. The Doctor nodded, and so Rose pushed his bed into a healing pod, put it on the second-highest setting, and with the help of some medication, she soon fell asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Rose awoke, there was a letter addressed to her sitting on her bedside table.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Rose,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel that since you rescued me from the Adaneth you deserve a proper explanation of why I was there, and what happened. I won’t give a full story of all 2988 years, for obvious reasons, but I won’t lie. They did some awful things.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I was there because I wanted to stop them declaring war on humanity, which is quite normal. Except that they didn’t listen to me. Didn’t let me talk. Didn’t care if I had information that could help their technology. Just chucked me straight in the cells with an execution scheduled the following week.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Several thousand years ago they had a massive army that was attempting to conquer the galaxy. I stopped it, and I killed them all. It wasn’t intentional. It just happened, and they all died, and it was my fault. So when they found out who I was, they went ballistic. Shut me in the deepest, darkest, dungeon they had, and decided to have some fun. They called it revenge, but they enjoyed it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything you could possibly think of, they did. Burning, branding, beating, breaking, drowning, electrocuting, cutting, suffocating, hallucinations, whippings, you name it. And they had a month each year where they would open up to the public and let in people who’d lost family members because of me, so they could get their personal revenge. I can’t say I blame them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were absolutely fantastic, Rose. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me. You are in no way accountable for what happened. This is not the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last. But it could have been so much worse if you hadn’t got me out. I suspect that you went through a lot to get me out and I will be forever grateful, although I assure you I was not worth it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could barely read the writing as her tears splotched the paper, snot dribbling out of her nose. She heard the Doctor come up behind her, limping, but the arm he put around her was gentle and unbroken. He reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew the screwdriver she’d been using.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want you to have this,” he said, “I’ve got a new one and you certainly deserve this. And it’ll be useful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Rose whispered. He nodded, and she took it from him, slipping it into her pocket. “Are you better?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now that I’m not locked up in a dungeon, I’m great!” he said, avoiding her eyes. She pulled his face gently around to face her own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not. You were tortured for almost three thousand years. You can’t just hop into a pod and fix it up in-” (she checked the clock) “-eight hours. So don’t lie to me, Doctor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My legs and feet are mostly healed. My ribs are getting there, my arms and neck are fine. And the burns. It’ll take a bit longer to heal the missing bits, but I’ll get there. And my back...the skin’s almost back together,” he said, looking at the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how about emotionally?” Rose ventured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Some minor hallucinations,” he said, turning away from her, “some minor flashbacks. I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You tell me when they’re happening, okay?” Rose grabbed his hand, “I’ll look after you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned back to her, and smiled. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting gingerly to his feet, and hobbling into the console room, he pulled a lever, and the TARDIS began to dematerialise. “How about I show you how to fly her?” he suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose came over, and leaned against the console. “Sounds good to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Allons-y!” the Doctor yelled, as they spiralled off into space and on to their next adventure.</span>
</p>
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